User blog comment:Brigadier Barty/Escaping the Prison of Olerr-Thayne/@comment-2246928-20161226043142/@comment-2246928-20170110230502

"Banshee, eh? You give your sword that name?" the low voice asked. The sound of bare footpaws moving across damp stone, then the otter could feel breath on the back of his legs, where the chains bit into his flesh. A swish of air flashed across his face, and then the faint stench of something awful filled his nostrils briefly before dissipating again.

Ssth-ssth! Flecks of old metal flitted down. The little sound increased in intensity.

Ssth-ssth-ssth-ssth-ssth-ssth- SSNAP!

One of Malachi's legs suddenly snapped free of its chains, the exposed flesh where the chains had once been pulsating with shock and twinges of brief pain as it was introduced to the cold and weightlessness of the icy room.

SNAP!

The otter was suddenly falling through the air, just long enough to register and think about what was happening. And then he became acquainted with the stone floor.

The low voice laughed. "Sorry! It seems I guessed wrong in regards to just where you might be landing."